


August Medley

by joondaes



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joondaes/pseuds/joondaes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Kim Jongin comes home from an international trip and kisses the life out of Do Kyungsoo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	August Medley

**Author's Note:**

> So I've been wanting to write domestic au slash parents!kaisoo. Enjoy the plotless fic.

_July 29 Jongin goes to Milwaukee._

_August 10 Jongin goes to Seattle._

 

Light dips across Kyungsoo’s pale skin as he rolls out of bed to pick his smartphone on the nightstand. A keep reminder pops up on the screen: _August 26 Jongin flies back to Seoul_. He squints an eye and pinches the tip of his nose. It is d-day. Jongin has been busy overseas for nearly a month now, and Kyungsoo misses him terribly that he counts each passing hour until the man returns home.

 

As a service doctor, Jongin has always felt incredibly occupied with the number of patients left and right. Normally, it takes him 24/7 to visit the main hospital and conduct rounds with the residents. As the shift ends in the evening, Jongin sighs with gratitude, but fails to relax the minute he hears the insistent chatters coming from the emergency wards. It causes him 4.586 seconds of mini heart attack to run into the designated room and save a life.

 

Although Kyungsoo feels like the proudest husband whenever Jongin receives a well-deserved recognition, it kind of saddens him that they have barely spent a decent weekend together with Taeoh. Apparently, the hellish schedule is kosher with the career description.

 

Contrariwise, Kyungsoo’s usual pursuits consist of housekeeping, cooking, and babysitting. On weekends, he writes columns for an online magazine. Today sums up Kyungsoo’s responsibilities except that he is leaving home to catch Jongin’s flight.

 

The pleated blinds on the windows cast shadows as sunrays dapple over the mattress. Taeoh flinches slightly at the mixture of the warm and wintry breeze.

 

“Good morning, baby,” Kyungsoo greets him with a smile. “Breakfast is ready.”

 

After the meal, Kyungsoo prepares Taeoh for a quick bath. He tells him another children story as the three-year old bathes in the little tub. He teaches him how to form soap bubbles with an open fist. Taeoh follows and giggles dearly while Kyungsoo tickles him for failing.

 

“Appa!” Taeoh shouts, showing Kyungsoo empty palms. “I can’t.”

 

At eight, Kyungsoo sits on the foot of the bed as he dries Taeoh’s hair with a clean towel. Taeoh stares up at Kyungsoo, blinking. “Daddy,” he mumbles.

 

“Ah, daddy,” Kyungsoo repeats, massaging Taeoh’s shoulders with the cloth. The thought of meeting Jongin after a month of deprivation thrills him beyond wildest dreams. “Daddy’s coming home today. Are you excited?” He receives a nod in response. “Then let’s get you dressed.”

 

Kyungsoo rises, opens the closet next to the floor mirror, and grabs the yellow hoodie with a penguin print. He remembers Jongin boxing it as a gift for Taeoh last Christmas. “Your favorite!” He waves the garment in the air.

 

“Shoes,” Taeoh says as he fits a pair of black jeans that Kyungsoo dry-cleaned yesterday. “Appa, help!”

 

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Kyungsoo chuckles and rushes back to Taeoh, pulling the jeans above a kiddie underwear. He dresses him completely in less than five minutes, then ties Taeoh’s shoelaces. He makes sure they don’t loosen in the 30-minute travel to Incheon airport. As soon as he finishes, Taeoh shuffles his feet on the ground and freefalls into Kyungsoo’s arms. Kyungsoo ruffles a hand through Taeoh’s smooth locks.

 

“You ready?”

 

“Appa, what time is it?” Taeoh points a finger at the wall clock. “Daddy’s airplane.”

 

“Hmm, eleven.” Kyungsoo places a grey beanie on Taeoh’s head. He finds him even cuter and wants to squeeze him to death. _Not really_. He tucks the twisted strands of hair behind Taeoh’s ear. “Daddy’s on board now. Should we go?”

 

“Yes! Uncle! Uncle driver!”

 

“Uncle Chanyeol is with uncle Baekhyun.”

 

Taeoh’s face sours. “Uncle Baekhyun,” he says, dismayed. “Bitch.”

 

“Oh my god!” Kyungsoo shrieks at the term. “Who taught you that word?”

 

“Uncle Jongdae.”

 

“Uncle Jongdae. Of course it’s uncle Jongdae.” He promises himself he is never leaving Taeoh with Jongdae again. Perhaps Junmyeon, a longtime friend, babysits better. The man has never spoken a syllable of profanity and is practically a prude.    

 

“I want to go, appa.” Taeoh yanks Kyungsoo’s jacket. “I want to go and see daddy.”

 

“All right.” Kyungsoo scoops him into his arms. “You promise to behave?”

 

Taeoh nods. Kyungsoo doubts it means an honest _yes._

 

 

 

 

 

The digital clock above the plasma screen reads _10:38_.

 

People mill around the terminal as midday approaches. The arrivals lounge shows different sets of passengers and luggage. A group of foreigners lines at the check in desk, waiting for the steward. The airport hangs amid a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Kyungsoo senses the delirious beating of his heart every minute.

 

He gathers Taeoh with an arm, but the kid withdraws from the contact, face creasing in boredom. “Appa.” Taeoh slumps on the seat and begins to blink rapidly. Kyungsoo knows he is fucked.

 

“20 minutes,” Kyungsoo assures as he watches the tears brimming in Taeoh’s eyes. “Baby, it’s okay. Daddy’s almost here. Don’t cry.” He strokes Taeoh’s back with a warm hand. “Please don’t cry.”

 

“Daddy,” Taeoh sobs, and Kyungsoo immediately calls it a cue to embrace him. “I miss daddy.”

 

“Oh, baby, I miss him too.” Kyungsoo lets out a sigh, nuzzling Taeoh’s neck. He glances at the clock for the fourth time and realizes it has been only five minutes. He groans in exasperation, earning a look of contempt from the old lady beside him. It is such a struggle now that Taeoh is throwing a fit and crying out loud. “Taeoh, baby, come on,” he whispers. “Daddy’s coming. Don’t cry.”

  

“Daddy!” Taeoh yells, gaining disapproving stares. Kyungsoo sends everyone polite bows as an apology.

 

It takes him a second to put a straight face and press comforting kisses on Taeoh’s head. The strain soon fades when Taeoh inches away to face him. “Ten minutes,” he says, thumbing the tears on Taeoh’s cheek. “Wait for daddy, yes?” He shoots him a stiff smile.

 

Taeoh nods, tracing a finger on the bridge of Kyungsoo’s nose. “Appa and daddy.”

 

“Uh-huh. And baby.” He hugs him tighter and wishes Jongin comes on time.

 

The clock finally strikes _11:00_. Kyungsoo’s eyes carefully roam across the open area. It doesn’t take long for him to recognize a familiar figure trudging toward the arrivals lounge. He feels a rush of excitement as he spots Jongin. The man is wearing a white shirt, a brown overcoat, tailored jeans, and a pair of round glasses. The fashion statement leaves Kyungsoo smiling and thinking that Jongin has gotten more attractive—and hotter.

 

“Look,” Kyungsoo tells Taeoh. “Daddy’s back.”

 

Taeoh hastily releases himself from Kyungsoo’s grip as he leaps into Jongin’s direction. “Daddy!” he screams, and Jongin picks him up from the ground. “Welcome!”

 

Jongin rejoices at Taeoh’s tiny effort. He pecks him on the cheek, humming against the pasty skin. “How are you, love?”

 

“I missed you, daddy,” Taeoh answers and snuggles on the crook of Jongin’s neck.

 

“I did, too. It was tough for me. But here I am. Are you happy?”

 

“Happy!”

 

“Great!”

 

Jongin steps closer until he is finally standing in front of Kyungsoo. He grins and greets him with a quick kiss on the lips, then wraps his free arm around Kyungsoo’s waist, pulling him closer and allowing him to soothe in. “You okay?” he asks, squeezing Kyungsoo.

 

“Yeah.” Kyungsoo smiles. “I just missed you. A lot.”

 

“I guess the video messages have a support on that.”

 

“Well?”

 

“Well, I missed you, too.”

 

Kyungsoo rests his head against the taller male’s chest. He smells the scent of laundered clothes and vanilla perfume. He doesn’t want to let go because this is Jongin and Jongin brings him all the flavors of mornings and evenings. So he revels in the perfect respite. “Let’s go,” Kyungsoo says. “You need to rest.”

 

“I have to go to the hospital,” Jongin announces with a serious face. Kyungsoo moves to face him, shocked. “Doctor Zhang has assigned me to operate on this 40-year old man.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m kidding.”

 

“Seriously, Jongin.” Kyungsoo shoots him an eye roll. He swears he is setting the kitchen on fire if Jongin ditches the family dinner. “Promise me you’re spending this day with me and Taeoh.”

 

Jongin laughs softly. “I promise, Soo.”

 

 

 

 

 

“How was your trip?” Kyungsoo inquires as he serves two cups of hot chocolate. He settles a seat on the couch, waits for Jongin’s story, and hopes he doesn’t hear him grumbling about the female nurse who has not stopped doting on his husband.

 

“It was—” Jongin trails off, thinking. He doesn’t really have the right word for it. The trip seemed more businesslike than the others. They had medical lectures with interns and professionals. He would say the fun part belonged to the night he had tea and crumpets with the head doctor. “—nice,” he adds. “Doctor Lu had the fanciest presentation. He used a pink and blue theme for the final talk. It was hilarious!”

 

“You’re joking.”

 

“I’m not. Everyone had a good laugh, though. Plus, Doctor Oh liked it.”

 

“Of course Doctor Oh,” Kyungsoo scoffs. “I’m pretty sure they’ve been doing extracurricular activities outside the hospital. You cannot deny the obvious.”

 

“The obvious kills,” Jongin points out. “They’re too old for the pretend game. I mean it’s okay, right? I don’t see a problem with dating the person you are head over heels for.”

 

“Well, they're close friends.”

 

“Friends my ass! You don’t give your friend a head in the backseat of the car!”

 

“Tell Doctor Lu to stop being such a sissy.” Kyungsoo lifts both legs above the couch, resting his head on Jongin’s lap as he lies comfortably. “Teach him your ways,” he quips, earning a sheepish smile from Jongin. He remembers meeting him in third year college.

 

It was mid-February when Jongin accidentally slept in the library. Kyungsoo, with a tinge of doubt, clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Uh, hi. It’s pretty late. The librarian is about to switch the lights off. You better go, too, I guess?”

 

Jongin blinked innocently at him, fixing his glasses. He was a sophomore back then and he had grades in straight As. At class, he carried fat books that had at least 500 pages each. In summer, he worked as a member of _Medicini_ , alongside Doctor Oh who failed twice in Chemistry but managed to nail the final exam in Advanced Physics.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I have an important hands-on test in less than 15 hours so I’m coursing the notes.”

 

“Ah, same,” Kyungsoo answered, grinning. ”Good luck then.”

 

From that day onwards, Jongin searched for the boy with heart-shaped lips and gorgeous eyes as he visited the library on a daily basis. The second time he found Kyungsoo researching behind a Samsung laptop, he wasted 1.978 seconds and asked him if he could join him in the table. It was a romance filled with pen and paper—and earphones. But Kyungsoo thought Jongin was the ultimate boyfriend material. They adored the same international bands and variety shows.

 

“I really missed you here,” Kyungsoo confesses, plopping on Jongin’s lap as he peppers him kisses on the cheek. He lets out a soft ‘ah’ when a hand strokes and squeezes his inner thigh, and Jongin simpers smugly at this because he is confident that he still has a good memory of Kyungsoo’s weakest spots. “What are you laughing at?” he asks.

 

“I like that little sound you make,” Jongin says pointedly.

 

Kyungsoo’s fingers wrap around Jongin’s neck as he gestures him closer for a kiss. It takes a few seconds until he is straddling him, and Jongin is pushing forward to get some friction. Slowly, he licks on the patch of skin on Jongin’s neck, teeth grazing over the area. “Doctor Kim,” he calls, and Jongin feels the heat of Kyungsoo’s breath fanning into his ear. “Don’t you think I deserve a _hands-on_?”

 

Jongin snubs the question. Instead, he unfastens the intricate and multiple buttons on Kyungsoo’s jeans. As soon as he finishes, he kisses him briefly on the lips, tasting a strange albeit delicious combination of strawberry and mint in Kyungsoo’s tongue. Yogurt, he decides. He has long accepted Kyungsoo’s fascination with the infamous flavor. “I guess you do,” Jongin responds to break the silence.

 

“Yeah?” Kyungsoo smiles deviously, fingertips dashing over Jongin’s chest. But when a continuous ringing begins to buzz inside the living room, Kyungsoo’s face turns into an unpaintable frown while Jongin fumbles for words in confusion. “What’s that?”

 

“Check your phone?” Jongin suggests.

 

“Uh, right.” Kyungsoo crawls on the couch and searches for the cockblocking device. He finds it behind the throw pillows. He bites back a curse because Mrs. Kim has officially interrupted the prelude of the lovemaking session. “Jongin, it’s your mom.”

 

“Okay. Answer it.”

 

“What am I supposed to say?”

 

“I don’t know? Say hi? The usual?”

 

“Oh my god.” Kyungsoo scowls. He clicks the green button and hopes Jongin’s mother is not on the line to chide him for failing to visit the Kims last week. Frankly, he hates this fusty commercial between him and Jongin. It has happened before, and Kyungsoo thinks the entire universe keeps throwing him oodles of animal shit for being cruel. “Hi, Mrs. Kim,” he speaks as nonchalantly as he can. “Oh. Yes. Taeoh’s in a great condition. He’s asleep…Jongin’s phone is, um, probably on silent. I’m not sure. He’s busy with work.”

 

While Jongin is struggling not to speak, he gives Kyungsoo a questioning look and waits for the next part of the conversation.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” Kyungsoo continues. “He’s often out…I haven’t really spent much time with him in the past weeks…I understand…Jongin’s job requires a lot of patience…Um, yes. Wait, what?”

 

“What is it?” Jongin mouths, curious. “I want to hear it.”

 

Kyungsoo pokes Jongin's forehead. “Stop it,” he mouths back. “Okay…Okay, Mrs. Kim. Have a nice day. Bye.” He ends the call, staring vacantly at Jongin. “She told me you were planning to date Rin.”

 

Silence drops. Jongin is screwed. He does remember the five-year old ballerina’s request. “Ah,” he stammers. “I kind of promised Rin I’d bring her to Minseok’s café to have frappe and cronuts.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“Soo, please.”

 

“Oh, shut up, Jongin.” Kyungsoo rises and does the buttons on his jeans. “I’m surprised you have time for Rin while Taeoh has been missing you for over a month. I’m cool with that.”

 

“I have plans with Taeoh,” Jongin retorts. “A different kind of special. Come on. Don’t be mad at me.” He tugs on Kyungsoo’s sleeve, sighing. “I love you and Taeoh to bits.”

 

Kyungsoo’s gaze lingers on him for a few seconds. He is particularly weak for Jongin’s sweet nothings and poetic tendencies with the bonus fact that the man means it more than anything. So he sits back and plunges right into Jongin’s arms.

 

“I love _you_ ,” Jongin repeats, smiling.

 

For a second, Kyungsoo is torn between hitting him with a throw pillow and kissing him until he runs out of breath. The latter seems better, though, he notes. “You owe me a lot tonight.”

 

 

 

 

 

“Jongin, come here,” Kyungsoo beckons. “Tie it for me. It’s too tight.”

 

Jongin steps forward and knots the laces of Kyungsoo’s apron into a ribbon. “So,” he begins. “What else are you cooking for dinner?”

 

“Your favorite.”

 

“Your dishes are my favorite.”

 

Kyungsoo prepares the ingredients on the kitchen counter, carefully putting a platter of ground meat aside. He separates the vegetables, grabs the chopping board, and starts with the radish. While he busies himself, Jongin sets the stove in medium-high heat as he tips an ample amount of olive oil on the saucepan.

 

“What do I have to do next?” Jongin inquires, standing beside Kyungsoo and watching him slice the onion. “I feel useless. Like that onion skin.” He laughs softly. Kyungsoo thinks he sounds rather boyish.

 

“No,” Kyungsoo objects, giggling. “You’re actually doing a great job.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about the veggies.”

 

“How about the carrots?” Jongin pouts. “I don’t think they’re that difficult to slice into thin strips.”

 

Kyungsoo’s grin widens at this. “I don’t want you to cut your fingers again.”

 

“But—“

 

“You can peel apples for Taeoh.”

 

Jongin rolls his eyes and walks toward the other counter to search for the peeler. “I have used knives on human organs before. Why can’t I use them on carrots?” he mumbles petulantly.

 

Kyungsoo only cackles in response. He tiptoes and pecks Jongin on the cheek, earning a disapproving groan from the taller male. “You’re cute,” he teases, and Jongin glowers at the scornful remark. “Taeoh has to take vitamins at exactly seven. I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, okay?” He heads out of the room. “Jongin, watch the stove!” he reminds him. “And don’t touch the carrots!”

 

 

 

 

 

“Taeoh, baby, here’s your milk.” Kyungsoo hands him a tall glass while Taeoh scoots on the couch, vacating a space beside Jongin. He glances at the television and realizes that Jongin and Taeoh are watching the same series again. He wonders if Jongin ever memorizes the dialogues because he has this weird hobby of quoting characters from movies.

 

“Poby! Poby!” Taeoh chants, pointing a finger at the flat screen TV. “Daddy, it’s Poby!”

 

“It’s almost bedtime,” Kyungsoo says.

 

“Appa, one more episode.” Taeoh pouts, saddened. “Please.”

 

Kyungsoo knows he doesn’t have the heart to snub Taeoh’s request. Apparently, the three-year old’s charm is just as effective as Jongin’s. Plus, the idea of a sobbing and moping Taeoh makes Kyungsoo’s chest swell that it physically hurts him.

 

“Appa,” Taeoh repeats, shaking Kyungsoo’s arm. “Poby is waiting.”

 

“Okay, Poby fan,” Kyungsoo surrenders. He is not going to win this anyway.

 

“Game over,” Jongin comments inwardly, simpering. “I taught him well.”

 

“I heard that!” Kyungsoo snaps, brows furrowing as he jabs Jongin’s stomach. “Rude.”

 

 

 

 

 

At ten o’clock, Kyungsoo comes out of the bathroom, sauntering towards the bed where Jongin is lying comfortably. “Did you use my towel?” he asks, folding a pair of trousers and placing it inside the drawer. “It was wet before I could dry myself with it.”

 

“Yes, I did,” Jongin answers casually. “I couldn’t find mine so I thought yours would be fine.”

 

“It was inside the cupboard!”

 

“I was already naked and I didn’t have time to run and get it!”

 

Kyungsoo draws in a sigh. Despite dealing with droplets of toothpaste on the sink and missing toilet rolls, he has decided not to sweat this but he is absolutely roasting Jongin’s ass tomorrow morning.

 

Meanwhile, Jongin edges closer and beckons Kyungsoo to join him. “Come,” he orders. While Kyungsoo sits beside him, Jongin dries the smaller male’s hair with a cloth. He smells Kyungsoo’s shoulders, earning a giggle as he beads featherlike kisses on the skin. “By the way, Chanyeol messaged me on Line.”

 

“What was it about?” Kyungsoo hums.

 

“A crisis.”

 

“With Baekhyun?”

 

“Yeah. Unfortunately, Baekhyun had shared Chanyeol’s drunk photos on Facebook.”

 

“Seriously?”

 

“Seriously.”

 

“Baekhyun would never do that. I mean, sure, he's a total dick but he respects Chanyeol a lot,” Kyungsoo explains. He has been friends with Baekhyun since forever, and he doubts the guy’s emotional capacity to troll Chanyeol to that degree of mortification.

 

“I told Chanyeol the same thing,” Jongin supplies. “And he virtually punched me in the throat for calling Baekhyun a dick.”

 

“True love indeed.”

 

“Chanyeol’s crazy about him, but he’s too pissed right now to discuss the subject with Baekhyun.”

 

“Guess I’m never creating a social media account.”

 

“Good because I don’t want other men sending you nudes and asking for your cellphone number.”

 

Kyungsoo elbows Jongin, laughing as he steals the cloth from Jongin’s hand and throws it on the floor. He pushes him against the mattress, climbs on top of him, and traces a finger over the seam of Jongin’s lips. “You’re possessive,” Kyungsoo says in a low, husky voice. “Really possessive.”

 

“I keep what’s mine, Kyungsoo,” Jongin responds, snaking a hand behind Kyungsoo’s head. “I don’t do generous unless a life is at stake.”

 

“That’s quite medical-ish of you, Doctor Kim,” Kyungsoo teases as he loosens the first two buttons of Jongin’s nightclothes. “But I don’t think you have to be generous tonight.”

 

In a swift movement, Jongin captures Kyungsoo’s lips and leads the kiss in perfect sync. It is sensually slow and classic that it leaves Kyungsoo headily breathless. He moans just the slightest as he tastes Jongin’s tongue slipping back and forth with an open mouth, then he moves a hand south where he reaches for the waistband of Jongin’s boxers.

 

“Did you turn off your phone?” Jongin quips, chuckling as Kyungsoo withdraws from the contact and delves underneath the duvet.

 

“Yeah,” Kyungsoo replies. He laps and nips on the skin around Jongin’s navel, causing the other male to breathe sharply. He flashes him a mischievous smile which makes Jongin grunt in frustration.

 

“Kyungsoo.” Jongin sends him an eye roll. “Just—“

 

“Just what, Doctor Kim?”

 

“You’re making it hard for me.”

 

“Literally?” Kyungsoo cackles as he snoops back and kisses Jongin. “You’re still loud and impatient. How about I set rules tonight?”

 

Jongin doesn’t waver at the proposition. He admits he and Kyungsoo have been adventurous since college. In fact, he remembers having car sex with him on New Year's Eve. Probably three years ago. It was that night he had sneaked out of a family gathering just to meet Kyungsoo. Mr. and Mrs. Kim thought he needed to treat his diarrhea for eating too much fruit cake.

 

“Appa! Daddy!” comes next. Taeoh barges into the room without a knock, and Jongin almost shoves Kyungsoo on the empty side of the bed.

 

“Hi, baby!” Kyungsoo greets nervously as Taeoh hops in. “What’s wrong?”

 

“I hate monsters.”

 

“What do you mean? Monsters are not real.”

 

“They are!”

 

“Ah, it’s okay,” Jongin says, cradling Taeoh in his arms. “Daddy’s here. Don’t be scared. I’ll walk you back to your room and kill the monsters.”

 

“No!” Taeoh bawls. “I want to sleep here.”

 

Kyungsoo stifles a laugh and gives Jongin a knowing look. “All right then. Are you okay with that, daddy? I mean Jongin. Um, right. Jongin?”

 

“Of course.”

 

Part of Jongin dies a little.

 

 

 

 

 

The morning paints the room with shafts of lavender and peach ebbing lighter against the walls. The wind outside gusts across the ground where nascent leaves have fallen and scattered. At this early hour, the city loses its solitude bit by bit, gracing vehicles and locals with another busy day. The clouds seem thick and heavy, but Kyungsoo feels warm in Jongin and Taeoh’s embrace.

 

A half-asleep and half-smiling Jongin pinches him on the cheek. “Stop moving your arm,” he scolds, holding Jongin’s elbow in place so they cocoon Taeoh. Jongin then pulls the blanket closer to the three-year old. “He’s an angel,” Kyungsoo says quietly. “Look at him.”

 

“Hmm.” Jongin nods in agreement. “Ah, whoever taught him that monsters exist?”

 

“Jongdae did.”

 

“That dude.”

 

“I know.” Kyungsoo exhales. “Do you have a duty later?”

 

“Yeah.” Jongin doesn’t want to disappoint Kyungsoo. At the same time, he counts this a difficult situation between career and family. Truth be told, he recognizes his shortcomings as a husband, and he hopes Kyungsoo understands. “I’m sorry,” he mutters.

 

“Don’t be,” Kyungsoo dismisses.  

 

“I mean it, Soo.”

 

“Shh.”

 

“You’re upset,” Jongin says, watching Kyungsoo’s reaction but he gains nothing from it until the smaller male starts thumbing circles on his knuckles. “I’m failing, aren’t I?”

 

“You’re not. And I’m not upset, okay?” Kyungsoo guarantees, though he wants him to stay longer. “I probably hate this kind of Kim-Jongin-deprivation but I’ve learned to live with it. I don’t think it’s a huge problem as long as I get to see and kiss your pretty face every night.” He receives a chuckle from Jongin. “Don’t sweat it. I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.” Jongin smiles dearly at him. “Very much.”

 

“Come on. Drop the drama and let’s take a shower.”

 

“That sounds great.”

 

_Really._

 

 

 

 

 

“You’re putting shampoo in my eyes!” Kyungsoo barks, and Jongin carefully guides him into the running water. “I was near death.”

 

Jongin guffaws, kneading Kyungsoo’s collarbones to wash the bubbles off. “You okay?”

 

The question doesn’t sound as pleasant as it is supposed to be so Kyungsoo knocks a fist on Jongin’s tummy. On a side note, he likes spending fleeting yet delightful moments with Jongin knowing the man owes the universe a significant number of hours to save people’s lives.

 

While Jongin stands behind him, Kyungsoo savors the hot shower, sighing as he relaxes for a few seconds. He, however, doesn’t miss the way Jongin is breathing in slow intervals when he closes the distance between them.

 

“I’m almost late for a scheduled appointment with a colleague,” Jongin says, looping an arm around Kyungsoo’s waist. “Doesn’t mean I can’t ditch Doctor Oh.” He giggles, and Kyungsoo faces him with flushed and drenched cheeks. The glistening stripes of Kyungsoo’s neck have practically snipped the last string of Jongin’s self-control. At this point, he is too focused on the tiny moles scattered across Kyungsoo’s skin, adoring the way they embellish the meaning of beauty.

 

“Right,” Kyungsoo agrees. “Now just shut up for a minute and kiss me.”

 

Jongin has always considered Kyungsoo a great-kisser. He loves him sweet yet harsh, especially when Kyungsoo is trying to play the role of a commando. Nonetheless, this is Jongin’s favorite part. He wants to taste every inch of Kyungsoo and show him that he is his.

 

The kiss doesn’t last long enough for Jongin to complain. Kyungsoo kneels on the floor tiles and gives Jongin’s cock a squeeze before he wraps his mouth around the head. He circles his tongue on the slit, staring up at Jongin under dark lashes. Slowly, he begins to bob his head up and down the length of Jongin’s cock.

 

“Soo,” Jongin says gutturally, threading his fingers through Kyungsoo’s wet hair. The pace is going to take a decade, and he is certain that Kyungsoo is doing it on purpose. “Soo,” he tries again. Kyungsoo ignores him, rather concentrated on jerking him off with sloppy fingers. “Kyungsoo, please hurry up.”

 

Kyungsoo smirks at the request, stamping kisses on Jongin’s thighs as an apology. He quickens the pace and allows Jongin to rut forward while he balances himself. But Jongin is a gentleman so he puts a hand behind Kyungsoo’s neck, gently stroking him as the smaller male pushes his cock further down his throat. Soon he is hissing and gripping the strands of Kyungsoo’s hair tighter. “I’m close,” Jongin tells him, and Kyungsoo swallows deeper, hollowing his cheeks in the process.

 

Kyungsoo stills and licks the pre-cum dribbling on the tip of Jongin’s cock. “That fast?” he taunts.

 

“Get up. Nice and slow. Really? Is that what you want?” Jongin challenges as he gathers Kyungsoo from the floor and shoves his back against the cold wall. He hooks Kyungsoo’s leg around his hip, grabbing his ass with one hand and the other under Kyungsoo’s chin. “You’re going to beg. Do you hear me?” Kyungsoo moans desperately in response. “Say yes.”

 

“Yes,” Kyungsoo manages with staggered breath.

 

“Hold on.”

 

Jongin pops the cap of lube from the bathroom cabinet and slicks his cock and fingers. He tosses the bottle to the ground (not like he cares where it goes), taking at least a minute to prep Kyungsoo. He inserts and scissors two fingers in the puckered hole and stretches him enough. “Stop moving. You’re heavy,” he jokes and smiles. Kyungsoo chuckles as he twists his arms around Jongin’s neck. “Good?”

 

“Hmm, yeah,” Kyungsoo responds, throwing his head on the peak of Jongin’s shoulder.

 

Logically, shower sex is a messy process in which Jongin has to lift Kyungsoo’s body and carry his weight in every thrust. They have tried this before. _Twice_. The first time happened a year ago when he and Kyungsoo had gone to a trip. The second, as far as Jongin could remember, took place in Gangnam right after they celebrated Junmyeon’s birthday.

 

Fun fact aside, Kyungsoo parts his lips, tensing under the bruising grip as he clenches around Jongin’s cock. It is an absolute lie to say that he is totally cool with how he is standing with one leg and how Jongin is fucking him in an excruciatingly slow manner. But he likes this precious moment he gets to stare at Jongin eye-to-eye while he appreciates everything about him.

 

Jongin nibbles on Kyungsoo’s collarbones, marking him in pink and kissing the sting away thereafter. He rolls his hips up and down until he finds a better angle. 

 

“Jongin,” Kyungsoo breathes, gasping. “Please,” he pleads as he leans his forehead against Jongin’s.

 

Jongin rewards him with a chaste kiss that has Kyungsoo’s heart stuttering. He surges forward and rams faster, fingers digging into the cheek of Kyungsoo’s ass. “Come,” he says, and Kyungsoo’s face reddens.

 

After some minutes, he comes with a fist tightly curled around his leaking cock. Jongin keeps him quiet with his mouth locked into Kyungsoo’s. A few more thrusts and he follows with a groan, almost dropping Kyungsoo as he milks out of the hole, releasing ropes of cum.

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo yelps and catches himself. “You’re fucking nuts!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Jongin says, laughing frantically as he embraces Kyungsoo. He presses a kiss on his temple. “Are you all right?”

 

“I can’t feel my legs,” Kyungsoo admits.

 

“Stay here.”

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I’m getting your towel and robe.”

 

Kyungsoo stops him and claims Jongin’s lips again. “I love you,” he says.

 

“I love you, too.” Jongin cups his cheek. “Now go ahead and clean up.”

 

 

 

 

 

A basket of fruits sits in the middle of the table while three platters, including matching spoons and forks, border next to empty glasses. Every utensil has been thoroughly set in place. Kyungsoo likes it neat and clean. He doesn’t tolerate dishwasher malpractice nor garbage dumping inside the kitchen. Whoever dares absolutely turns into a walking corpse at the end of the day.

 

At nine, he serves breakfast. He prepares Taeoh’s favorite as he pours colorful wheels of cereal on a bowl of milk. “Isn’t it pretty?” Kyungsoo coos, patting the kid’s head. “Do you like blue?” He points at the star-shaped piece on Taeoh’s spoon.

 

Taeoh shakes his head. “I like yellow.”

 

Finally, Jongin walks in, giving Taeoh a peck on the cheek as he slides into the chair beside him. “Daddy killed the monsters for you,” he says.

 

“Really?” Taeoh gapes. “Did you scare them off, daddy?”

 

“Yeah!” Jongin brags. Kyungsoo turns to him, fixing the collar of his shirt. “I did this!” He showed the three-year old an angry face, which doesn’t really intimidate Kyungsoo, in an attempt to convince Taeoh that he has outdone the said monsters. Taeoh buys it anyway.

 

“You’re late as hell,” Kyungsoo whispers, rubbing the side of Jongin’s neck where he has left a tiny reddish mark. “You have to eat.”

 

Jongin only smiles at him as he sips on his coffee. “I’m driving to mom’s place on Sunday. Do you wanna come?” he asks.

 

“Mom-son time?”

 

“Yeah. But I’m sure she misses you and Taeoh.”

 

“Is this a surprise visit?”

 

“Uh, no.”

 

“Is it okay with her?”

 

“Soo,” Jongin says gently. “Stop worrying about the past. Mom is over it. You are part of my family. I am part of your family. We’ve won those issues together, right?” 

 

Kyungsoo falters for a moment. He doesn’t understand the existing streak of doubt in him. Mrs. Kim did oppose his relationship with Jongin years ago. He had verbal fights with her, though he had tried burying those memories now that the old lady hardly discusses the topic with them. Taeoh, perhaps, bridged the gaps, helping him touch Mrs. Kim’s cold heart. As cliché as it sounds, Kyungsoo has battled everybody’s uncertainty with an open mind. He loves Jongin too much that he finds it enough of a reason to keep him. He knows he is worth it.

 

“Soo,” Jongin repeats, knotting his fingers with Kyungsoo’s. “I’m here.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Kyungsoo apologizes as he sits next to Jongin. “I’m not supposed to—really—I’m sorry, Jongin.”

 

“It’s okay.” Jongin beams at him. “So are you coming? With Taeoh.”

 

“Yeah. Sure.”

 

“I’m buying a box of pizza after work.”

 

“Pepperoni!” Taeoh says eagerly. “Daddy, I want muffins, too.”

 

“Okay, love.” Jongin weaves a hand through Taeoh’s hair. “What else?”

 

“Ice cream.”

 

“All right.”

 

“Fried chicken.”

 

“Me too!”

 

Kyungsoo giggles at the two’s conversation. He is literally in love with Jongin and Taeoh.

 

 

 

 

 

It is two o’clock in the afternoon when Kyungsoo, together with Taeoh, stumbles across a traffic jam. The ten-minute road break costs him a bunch of messages from Baekhyun who is waiting for him at Kamong. While Taeoh hums to the Little Einsteins theme song, Kyungsoo fishes out his phone from the sling bag. He reads Baekhyun’s initial rants about the Facebook incident. He is not sure whether to laugh or cry because the guy is obviously on the verge of killing Jongdae.

 

“He did it, Soo!” Baekhyun snaps the moment Kyungsoo joins him in the café. “It was Jongdae!” He bites on the muffin, sobbing. “Chanyeol and I haven’t talked for 31 hours.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Kyungsoo says, though he doubts Chanyeol’s patience knowing that the photos have reached the Parks and the Byuns. Baekhyun chokes on the mango smoothie as he sips on it. “Chanyeol loves you. That’s for sure.”

 

“We are talking about social media,” Baekhyun retorts. “Everything is fucked up on the Internet. I wasn’t careful enough to log out when Jongdae borrowed my laptop.”

 

“Why would he do something like that?”

 

“Um, I don’t know?”

 

“Baekhyun,” Kyungsoo chides. “You’re lying.”

 

Baekhyun’s thoughts cloud. He has to be honest because this is Kyungsoo and Kyungsoo, the only friend who tolerates his strange fetishes, hates liars. “Well,” he starts. “I, um, sent this video of Jongdae and Junmyeon to a few friends.”

 

“What?” Kyungsoo’s brows crumple. Taeoh feeds him a pinch of ice-cream waffle. He beams at him, patting the kid on the back. “Thank you, baby. It’s all yours. I’m full.” Then he resumes to the real conversation, watching Baekhyun sulk like a first-grader. “So, tell me about this video. It’s not that scandalous, is it? I don’t think Junmyeon has the guts to film him and Jongdae.”

 

“Actually, Junmyeon hired a crew for the shoot.”

 

“What the fuck?”

 

“Appa!” Taeoh glowers at Kyungsoo. “Bad word.”

 

“I’m sorry!”

 

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun notes, leaning on the table. “It’s just an embarrassing clip of Junmyeon and Jongdae dancing to Troublemaker.”

 

Kyungsoo gawks. “You mean they didn’t—?”

 

“Not a fucking chance. But Junmyeon looks sexy in Hyuna’s red outfit.”

 

“Junmyeon bottoms?”

 

“I guess he does!”

 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo is driving along the boulevard when he decides to check his phone. A new message notification flashes on the screen: _finished my shift early because I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your kisses :* I love you_. Kyungsoo smiles. He replies: _I love you too. Taeoh and I are almost home._ A minute after, Jongin texts back: _will leave the hospital before seven ^^ drive safely!_

 

An hour later, Kyungsoo vacuums in the living room, making sure Taeoh doesn’t catch carpet dust. He allows him to watch cartoons as he waits for Jongin. He walks to the kitchen, grabs a pack of cookies, and returns to give Taeoh a treat. “I bought you a snack,” he says with a grin.

 

Taeoh accepts it, flailing. “Thank you, appa! I love cookies!”

 

“You’re welcome, baby.”

 

Kyungsoo’s routine is not as boring as people often label. He wanted this. He _wants_ this. In college, he dreamt of spending a typical day with Jongin and a daughter or a son. He wished he could take care of him every single day, wished he owned the right position to tell him he was flawed yet beautiful. He would never forget crushing on him and considering the feelings wrong. They took steps. Very small steps. Until the perfect time came. He knew he had to be patient. Jongin promised him a life he would not regret sharing, protecting, and valuing all at once. Kyungsoo thought it was a great package.

 

Maybe part of him feels dull whenever Jongin is not around. But he counts this a bonus. He likes the sweet ache of missing him, of craving Jongin’s arms tangled around him as the day ends. He likes the idea of tight hugs after a life-threatening operation. He likes the slightest of Jongin’s energy. And he is never giving up a thing or two just because.

 

The clock ticks ten o’clock. As the front door swings open, Kyungsoo immediately greets Jongin with a soft smile that has always been naturally stress-relieving. The hallway light perches on Jongin’s face. Kyungsoo finds him gorgeous, almost too impossible.

 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Jongin says wearily. “I had to help Doctor Zhang.”

 

Kyungsoo shushes him. “It’s okay. Did you eat dinner?”

 

“Yeah. Taemin bought us for free. Where’s Taeoh?”

 

“He’s already in bed,” Kyungsoo notes as he laces his fingers with Jongin. “You have to rest, too. Come on.”

 

“Kyungsoo,” Jongin calls, and Kyungsoo stares back momentarily at him. He molds a hand at the back of Kyungsoo’s head and pulls him into a tight hug, a very tight hug that Kyungsoo has been missing for a year. It is out of nowhere that Jongin is standing with him like this, and Kyungsoo is too stupefied to press in, but he doesn’t hesitate to circle his arms around the man.

 

“What’s the matter?” Kyungsoo asks. “Is everything okay?”

 

“I’m taking a break for a month.”

 

“What are you talking about? Why?”

 

“So I get more chance to hold you like this.”

 

“Jongin!” Kyungsoo protests, though he fails to hide the pale shade of scarlet spreading across his cheeks. He tries to move, but Jongin tightens the hug.

 

“Don’t go,” Jongin murmurs.

 

“Okay.”

 

“I told the head doctor that I’d like to spend time with you and Taeoh.”

 

This time, Kyungsoo insists to face him. He studies him, confused. “What?”

 

“I have three tickets to San Francisco.” Jongin grins. “I know you’re missing your parents and your brother so you and I are flying to the U.S. next week.”

 

“Oh my god.” Kyungsoo is practically speechless. He cups Jongin’s face with both hands, kisses him on the lips, and moves for another quick embrace. “I’m grateful, but it’s okay—I’m okay. You don’t have to leave the hospital just to—“ he trails off. Kyungsoo knows he wants it, has been wanting to travel with Jongin without having to worry about the patients and the duties between them.

 

“Just to be with you?” Jongin finishes for him. Kyungsoo freezes. “Listen, Soo. I’m not doing this because I have to. I’m doing this because I want to. I’m not giving you a choice here. Let me take you to every place you wish to visit. Tell me what you need. Tell me what I’ve been failing to do all this time.” Kyungsoo swears he is about to tear up, but he bites on his bottom lip and trains his gaze on Jongin. “You deserve more.”

 

“I deserve enough,” Kyungsoo corrects, stroking Jongin’s jaw and kissing him each second. He cracks a smile. “You’re enough.”

 

“Ah, cheesy Do Kyungsoo.”

 

“It does sound cheesy but it’s definitely an honest confession.”

 

Jongin plants a kiss on Kyungsoo’s forehead. “Okay,” he says. “Tomorrow’s going to be a very nice day. For now, let’s cuddle in bed and talk about what I haven’t heard of August aka Kyungsoo’s alone month.”

 

Kyungsoo forgets those lonely days without Jongin.


End file.
